


Of Monsters and Madness

by xspiritofthemapleleaf



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Gen, Mental Illness, The Mad King - Freeform, he goes insane alright, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspiritofthemapleleaf/pseuds/xspiritofthemapleleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a condition Ryan had, that he never really considered an ailment. He simply heard voices, that was all. But in the end, they never affected his actions, so he had nothing to worry about; that is, until he started listening to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Monsters and Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to me.

Ryan heard voices.

For quite some time good and bad had bickered in his mind like two versions of himself at war. It vaguely reminded him of the shoulder devil and angel archetype, only it was in his head, acting very much like his conscience. It was normal for him, and it did little to effect his actions, so he never considered it a sign of insanity. He supposed if he ever asked the others about it, maybe then it would be a little out of the ordinary. But Ryan was wiser than that, and so he allowed to voices to exist only in his mind.

Eventually the good voice had quieted permanently, for some bizarre reason, and it left Ryan to argue with the bad one himself. But even still, they were only thoughts in his head. He never acted upon them, and the terrible things the voice beckoned for remained locked in his mind, never to move past the skull.

But then that blasted cow came along.

It had wandered into Ryan’s house, unwilling to leave, and Ryan could’ve easily killed it, or let it find its way out on its own. But there the voice came, giving a strange and intriguing third option:

_“Trap it. If it wishes to live here, so be it. But it will not go without consequence.”_

Curiously, Ryan assessed his options, searched for any possible negative to the choice the voice had offered. After pondering he decided that there was none. Perhaps he would earn a strange look from the others when they found out, but they didn’t often come into his home.

It was the first time Ryan listened to the voice.

It wasn’t the last.

Gradually, over time, Ryan began to trust the voice more and more. It had nothing to harm him, only amusing situations that sent Ryan and everyone else into fits of laughter. The recouping of Edgar. The offering of murdering innocent animals. The shockingly morbid and crude comments. 

The King competition only swelled his ego. “Mad” didn’t seem to be such a terrible title. The voice in his mind told him it meant they feared him. The jokes were created to undermine him only because they were scared.

_And what if I don’t want them to fear me?_ Ryan would ask himself.

_“Fear is the only reliable way,”_ the voice would answer.

This was the normal life of Ryan Haywood.

The sun set on another day at Achievement City, and far above Ryan Geoff appeared, yawning as he descended from the sky like some kind of god. Ryan had yet to discover how Geoff had floating properties while everyone else remained grounded. He knew it had something to do with the creation of the city, but then why didn’t Gavin possess the same power?

_“Geoff will never tell. His ego is too inflated to give that kind of power to anyone,”_ the voice commented.

Ryan nodded in silent agreement.

“Alright. Let’s head home before it gets too dark.” Geoff touched down softly on the ice. “We’ll finish this build tomorrow.”

Gavin plopped his head out from a layer of snow, creeper scarf wrapped tightly around his mouth and nose. “Ah, really? I just got into it.” His speech was slightly muffled by the scarf.

“Home. Now.” Geoff was in no mood to argue. They’d been working on the new build all day, and it had been particularly frustrating since Geoff had refused to tell them a word of what they were working on. So that “everyone can play the fairly,” Geoff had said. Honestly, Ryan hoped they never played the new game. Geoff and Gavin’s games they orchestrated were fun and sometimes clever, but this one would simply be too taxing for Ryan to ever enjoy.

He sighed, walking over to Gavin buried in the snow. “You can finish whatever you started tomorrow,” he said simply. He offered a hand to Gavin. The lad pouted, but gladly took the offer.

They returned back to the city the old-fashioned way: walking. Gavin stripped off his scarf, sighing as the forest biome’s bright rays hit his skin. “Bollocks. I hate tundra biomes.”

Ryan removed his heavy coat, glad to let the sun warm his chilled bones. The huge statue of Jack cast a shadow over the logo and half of Ray’s house. Underneath the statue standing on the porch of his house was actual Jack, blue helmet under his arms. He walked down the steps, expression on his face more than annoyed.  "I thought you said you'd be back before sunset." Jack frowned, looking towards Geoff for an answer.

Geoff shrugged. "The sun is technically still setting." Behind him, Gavin cracked a smile.

"Then _you_ go find Michael.  I sent him out to go look for you a while ago." Jack was already turning away, done with conversation.

"I can't. I gotta make dinner.” Geoff sighed, kicking the ground with his boot. Suddenly, he straightened, and turned around to face Ryan and Gavin. “You two. Go find Michael. I better get to work on making a huge dinner so Jack can forgive me.”

Gavin bit his lip, rocking on his heels. “Actually, I have to go help Ray with something.” He began to step back slowly. “So, I’ll just…” he sprinted off towards Ray’s house, entering and slamming the door behind him. Inside the house came a small yelp and faint shout. “Gavin!”

_“Typical,”_ the voice spoke up again. _“One day he will be put in his place.”_

Ryan rolled his eyes. He turned to a very frustrated Geoff. “Don’t worry. I’ll go find him.”

Geoff clapped a hand on his shoulder. “And that’s why I like you, Ryan. Come back soon.” Geoff headed off to his monstrosity of a house, muttering to himself about chicken and mushroom stew.

Ryan meanwhile walked back into the forest, not minding the extra trek. The sunset was always the most beautiful part of the day anyways. He never saw so many colors in the sky: shades of fiery orange and sleepy purple, all accompanied by the glowing moon that followed pursuit. It was too bad the spectrum only lasted for a short part of the day.

Finding the path Michael had taken wasn’t too difficult; the brunette was always bored easily with walking, so he found other ways to entertain himself. Ryan spotted deep gashes in trees from Michael’s sword, and small signs of scuffles from whenever the lad had decided to attack a cow or a chicken. The trail of carnage was easy to follow. Ryan had convinced himself long ago that Michael’s tendencies were a good thing, since it was always Michael who got lost in Achievement City. His random damage to the world made him easy to find and locate, which had already saved his life dozens of times.

After almost ten minutes of no sign of Michael, Ryan began to worry slightly. The sun had long since disappeared over the horizon, and the stars were now twinkling over head. This was the time where it grew dangerous. Ryan knew better than anyone else the pattern of monsters in the world. A forest at nightfall was prime time for skeletons and zombies, a spider if a man were unlucky. Ryan gripped the hilt of his iron sword, eyes now scanning the forest as he walked.

There was a sharp sound of a twig snapping on his left, and Ryan looked over just in time to see a spider hiss and spit at him, beady red eyes glowing in the dark. Ryan rolled, the spider pouncing right where he was a moment ago. It hissed angrily, following him with every movement.

_“Destroy it,”_ the voice commanded.

Ryan unsheathed his sword, and slashed across the spider’s back. It recoiled, and Ryan dove two more blows into the monster. There was another hiss, a small noise like someone was letting air out of a balloon, and the monster faded.

Satisfied, Ryan picked up the spider string it had dropped. _“See?”_ the voice almost purred. _“It feels good to kill.”_

“A monster, maybe,” Ryan muttered.

“Ryan! Is that you?” A different voice shouted, sounding very close.

Ryan frowned. The voice came from _underneath_ him. He looked down, realizing he was standing on gravel. “Michael?”

“Ryan! Thank fucking Christ! Will you dig me out?” Michael called out, sounding relieved.

“Uh, sure.” Ryan got down on his hands and knees, and began to dig. A moment later the gravel slipped away and there was Michael, covered in grime, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Around him lay the remains of a shattered diamond sword, the pieces glowing under the dim light.

“Your sword,” Ryan frowned.

Michael shrugged. “Yeah. I tried to dig my way out with it, but I had no idea it was on its last hinges. Good thing it wasn’t my enchanted one.” He coughed. “Will you get me out of here?”

Ryan noticed for the first time the scratches and slashes on Michael’s face. His bear skin was shredded at the bottom, and parts of it were covered in soot. He’d had run-ins with monsters, that was for sure. But he was in bad shape.

Ryan glanced at the hollowed-out chamber surrounding Michael. It was completely smooth stone. “No wonder you got stuck,” Ryan mused.

_“He’s completely at your mercy,”_ the voice spoke suddenly. _“What an opportunity.”_

_This is no opportunity,_ Ryan shot back. _He needs medical attention._

_“And why is he so deserving of that?”_

Ryan blinked, and he realized that Michael was frowning up at him, a puzzled look on his face. “Uh, Ryan? You okay?” he asked.

Ryan stood up. He dusted himself off. “Yeah. I was just thinking…do you really need to leave that hole?”

“Uh, yes, shit-head! Look at me!” Michael spat, gesturing to his scratches. “Now’s not the time to be messing around.”

“But let’s think about this for a moment.” Ryan put his hand on his chin, pretending to be in deep thought. “You can stay in here, and I no longer have to deal with your temperamental mouth, or I can rescue you. I don’t know. That sounds like a no-brainer to me.”

“Ryan,” Michael growled. “Come on.”

“But what’s the logical thing to do?” Ryan smiled. “Nah.”

“Ryan—“ Michael roared, but was cut off short. He winced, and leaned against a wall. His hand went up to his side, cradling it softly.

Ryan’s smile faded. An alarm went off in his head, and he leaned forward, guilt panging in his chest. “Shit. I don’t…come on.” He held out a hand to Michael.

Michael grabbed it and allowed Ryan to pull him all the way up, collapsing on the grass when he reached the top. He stood up with shaky legs, shooting a glare at Ryan.

Ryan began to speak. “Michael, I—“

“Just shut the fuck up and help me walk, okay?” Michael grumbled, leaning heavily against Ryan.

It was a long walk back.

…

They entered Downtown Achievement City just as the moon began to rise, bright and vibrant like a living thing. They must’ve been waiting for their return, because as soon as they stepped on the wool of the logo Gavin burst from Geoff’s house, face overcome with a smile. A few seconds later Ray followed after, looking almost as happy as Gavin. Gavin’s face morphed into a frown, and he waggled his finger in a mock scold. “There you are! We were getting worried—“ he stopped short when he saw Michael, cut and bleeding and obviously hurt. “Michael.”

Michael shoved off of Ryan, turning back to his house. “I’m going to bed.” He limped away.

Gavin rushed after him. “Michael, are you okay? What’s wrong?” his babbling faded as he followed Michael into his home.

Ray raised an eyebrow. “Jesus, he doesn’t look too good. What the hell happened?” Ray looked to Ryan for an answer.

Ryan struggled to say something. But then the voice came again, strong as ever. _“He’ll never believe you, whatever you say. Ray doesn’t care about you.”_

Ryan scowled. “Tell Geoff I’m not hungry. I’m turning in for the night.” He pushed past Ray to the kung-fu house, his rightful home. For good measure he slammed the door behind him.

Outside he heard Ray shout, “What the fuck, Ryan?”Ryan ignored him.

He sat on his bed, feeling like shit.

_“That could’ve gone better,”_ the voice murmured.

Ryan’s temper flared. “What the fuck are you talking about? This was your idea!”

_“Your idea,”_ the voice reminded him. _“Aren’t I you?”_

A sudden image flashed into Ryan’s mind of a slightly different version of himself, with cruel clothing and a dark smile. He shook the thought away. “This isn’t what I wanted to happen.”

_“Then you should stop listening to me.”_ The voice chuckled.

“ _You_ should keep quiet.” Ryan frowned. He stepped on the glass of Edgar’s hole, looking down at the animal. The cow looked up, mooing pitifully. “Michael will tell everyone what happened.”

_“You should consider an appropriate response, then, before they dub you insane,”_ the voice mused.

Ryan scoffed. “They already think I’m insane, remember?” He tapped the glass underneath him. “Only this time, it won’t be a joke anymore, will it?”

The voice made no response.

The door squeaked behind him. Ryan glanced over his shoulder, spying the familiar olive green of Geoff’s armor. He frowned.

“We’re you just talking to someone?” Geoff asked, walking around so that Ryan faced him.

Ryan shook his head. “No. Why?”

Geoff narrowed his eyes. “I thought I heard you talking.” He sat down on Ryan’s bed, resting his arms on his legs. “Michael told me what happened.”

Ryan kept his expression blank. “And?”

“He said you we’re acting crazy, threatening to leave him there.” Geoff raised an eyebrow. “Care to say anything on that?”

Ryan crossed his arms. “Do you believe him?”

“This isn’t some fucking game, Ryan. We read Michael’s health levels. He was down to two hearts,” Geoff snapped. “I get you have some fucking psycho thing going on for you, but you took it too far.”

_“So he does think you’re crazy,”_ the voice spoke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Everything I do is perfectly reasonable,” Ryan protested.

Geoff shook his head. He stood up. “I can’t make you see what’s right and what’s wrong. But you should at least apologize to Michael. You scared the dicks out of him, I can tell. And not much scares him.” He left, leaving a bad taste in Ryan’s mouth.

Ryan sighed. Maybe he should apologize. Michael might be mad for a few days, but then he’d be forgiven.

_“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for,”_ the voice said.

So maybe he wouldn’t say sorry.

He went to his chest, searching for some sort of food to eat. Skipping dinner had proven to have consequences.

His door opened again behind him, and Ryan sighed. “I don’t want to talk.”

“So maybe you don’t. But you still need to be patched up, yeah?” Gavin asked.

Ryan faced Gavin. He had come in carrying a plate of food and a potion of healing. His face was expressionless. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Ryan nodded, and Gavin came in, placing the place on Ryan’s bed. Then he held up the potion to Ryan. “You got into a scrap with a spider, right?” Gavin gave him a pointed look.

Ryan reached up the touch his face, feeling the faint scratches of his encounter. Gavin might act like a fool most of the time, but he was pretty damn smart. “Thanks.” He took the potion and drank, feeling the scratches mend and fade. “I thought—“

“You thought I wouldn’t talk to you after Michael? Well, he’s a bloody biscuit when it comes to things like this. I thought I’d hear both sides of the stories first.”  Gavin plopped down on Ryan’s bed after saying a brief hello to Edgar. “So?”

Ryan shrugged. “Michael had accidently buried himself in gravel when I found him. I just took my time getting him out, that’s all.”

“You knew how badly hurt he was though, right?” Gavin asked seriously.

Reluctantly, Ryan confessed. “Yes.”

Gavin nodded. “Well alright then.” He stared at Ryan.

“What?” Ryan asked.

“Are you alright?” Gavin asked suddenly, straight forward as usual.

Ryan frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, nevermind.” Gavin said quickly, standing up. “I should go. Goodnight, Ry.”

Ryan placed a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “Talk.”

Gavin gulped. “Well, it’s just that, um, I heard Jack talking to Geoff, and they’re worried, Ryan. About you.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking sheepish.

“I’m fine.” Ryan insisted. I’ve never been better.”

_“Absolutely. That’s why you have me, after all.”_

Gavin didn’t look so sure. “I’ve noticed too. You haven’t really been the same since—“

“I’m perfectly okay,” Ryan interrupted. “I appreciate the concern.” He stepped out of Gavin’s way. “Goodnight.”

Gavin sent a look of concern over to him, but didn’t say anything else. He followed Ryan’s lead and went without another word.

Once Gavin left, Ryan felt himself relax. He didn’t understand why the others were worrying. Nothing had changed about him; his thoughts remained the same among every matter. He certainly didn’t _feel_ any different.

Until late that night, he sat on his bed, simply going over what had happened during the day. The voice had since gone silent, leaving Ryan to reflect by himself. He glanced up at the glass next to his bed, where the chicken clucked aimlessly inside its container. He could see himself in the reflection: tired eyes, brooding expression, ruffled hair. He should consider actually looking at himself before he left his house every day. Maybe if he looked better his friends would leave him alone.

He narrowed his eyes, watching in the reflection as a face appeared behind him.

Ryan spun around, hand on the hilt of his sword. “Who’s there?” he cried.

He scanned the single room of his house carefully. No one was there.

Ryan scowled, turning back around. He leaned closer to the glass, wondering if it had been a trick of light.

It wasn’t. The face was still there, clear as day, soft smile on his lips. He stepped closer to Ryan, and Ryan shot a glance behind him again, _but no one was there_.

It took a long time for Ryan to realize that the figure was familiar. In fact, he had just imagined it earlier during the day, while arguing with the voice. Same clothing only gloomier, same stature only taller, same face only…

_“You should consider a larger home,”_ the voice said. The figure’s— _Ryan’s_ —lips moved in time.

Ryan sucked in a breath as a different Ryan loomed behind him. “You’re…” he looked behind himself again, still seeing nothing. “You’re…”

_“Not real. You should know better.”_ The Other Ryan rolled his eyes _. “It appears you have created a face for me.”_

“I didn’t do this. Why would I?” Ryan hissed back. He could feel his heart pounding. The voice was supposed to stay in his head. It couldn’t do anything there. But outside, this was a problem.

Icy blue eyes—his own eyes—bored into him. _“You did well today.”_

“I disagree.” Ryan glared at him.

The doppelganger smiled cruelly. _“You must agree in some way. Otherwise I wouldn’t exist, right?”_

Ryan said nothing.

The Other Ryan cleared his throat. _“This is really an opportunity we have here. We can use this.”_

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “ _How?_ How can we use this?” Ryan stood up, stilling staring at his other self in the glass. “I want you gone. Do you understand me?” His hands trembled. “Leave me alone.”

All he received was a dark chuckle. _“Oh, if you could just wish me away, you would’ve a long time ago.”_

Ryan tensed. “I’ll get rid of you myself.”

Other Ryan shook his head solemnly. _“But you won’t, will you?”_

A shout erupted from Ryan’s throat, and without warning he smashed his fist against the glass, shattering it like a firework. Shards of glass stuck into his arms like splinters, but he felt nothing. All he wanted to destroy this thing, to rid himself of the inner demon that he had seemingly created.

_“Use your rage.”_ He was back in Ryan’s mind, tormenting him. _“Channel it to make you stronger.”_

“Go away!” Ryan roared, breaking every block of glass, unstoppable.

He broke everything into tiny pieces, until nothing remained but tiny pebbles of glass. Then he collapsed in the middle of it, breath ragged and vision tinted red. He brought his arms up to his face, covered in red spider webs of blood.

_“It’s too late,”_ the voice whispered. _“You’re already a monster.”_

Ryan closed his eyes.

He was unaware that minutes later Jack would burst into his room, awakened by the noise and ready to fight. And he would find Ryan, in a small pool of his own blood and broken glass, muttering to himself that it was too late.


End file.
